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9-27-04 // 4.10 pm written and directed by joel schumacher Home sick. I got up this morning and against all better judgment I went in to work, despite the fact that I was shivering and my head felt like it had a hole in it and was leaking thought processes. That's not even counting the near constant coughing. So I went in and after about two hours I told my manager that I made a mistake, and he was nice and said I should just head home and get some rest. About an hour before that, I called the doctor and they prescribed me some antibiotics and decongestants, so I picked those up on the way back home. I came home, had a bowl of soup & then ended up falling asleep on the couch to the sounds of the English premier league. I'm kind of half watching "St. Elmo's Fire" on TV right now. Sadder still is the fact that I actually own the tape somewhere around here. I dunno, it's a ridiculous film even within the context of mid-'80s Brat Pack melodramas, but it's so over the top ridiculous and pretentious that it works for me. I dunno, whatever, it's surely not high art. I've always liked the Andrew McCarthy character for some reason, cynical jerk and all. Although he's much less a jerk than almost anyone else in the movie, which is crazy. I noticed a few minutes ago that I haven't coughed in a couple of hours at least. This is good as that hasn't happened in days and days, save for when I bite the bullet and loaded myself upon NyQuil Cough so I could try to sleep. But yeah, I think the decongestant is doing its thing and drying me up -- my throat doesn't have as much gunk running down it which must be making my lungs happier. OK, and now enough with the respiratory system talk. Erin and I saw "Garden State" over the weekend & it was great. Well, it was flawed yet excellent, that's what I'll say. It was certainly one hell of a debut for Zach Braff. The dialogue was great, the characterization was pretty good, the performances from the main trio of Braff, Natalie Portman (whom I normally don't care for but she was wonderful here), and Peter Sarsgaard left little to be desired. Also, big cheers to whomever was in charge of the cinematography & sets, they made New Jersey look good. Also, I loved the soundtrack. Granted, at least half of it was stuff that's already in my collection, but it fit so well with the film. Bonus points for using my all-time favorite Simon & Garfunkel song. (The Only Living Boy In New York) I mean, The Boxer and America are also firm faves but it's not as great as that song is. But I digress (and hopefully stop rambling). It was a good Friday night though -- I picked Erin up after she got off work and we stopped for a bite at a grill/bar sort of place. We caught up with the week and talked with much anticipation this coming weekend's Chicago trip. I ate a bison burger, it was good. I'd eat bison burgers every time I ate a burger if such a thing was possible. But yeah, the dinner and conversation was great & the movie was great. Just a cool night. The rest of the weekend I spent being sick, mostly. I met up with my parents, sister & grandma/grandpa for a bit when they called me and said they were heading towards Mom's Deli. So I hung out with them there for a while even though I wasn't hungry and didn't eat. I went for a long walk and then a few hours later met Erin for a late lunch. Came home and vegetated, I even fell asleep for a half hour at one point. I was supposed to head to Aaron's new house for a BBQ but I just didn't feel up to it, I called and regrettably had to cancel. He understood, though, which was cool. I also bailed on going with Erin to Andy's housewarming party and went to sleep instead. I really don't want Andy and Liz to think I don't like them or anything, 'cause I really do. I just don't ever seem to make it to their parties / late night hanging out sessions. It gets back to that whole not being a night owl type anymore that I was talking about the other day. Kind of regrettable, but I'd rather pass on an event with an explanation than go and be a drag or a jerk 'cause I'm tired/sick. Whoops, there went one cough. But it was just a mini cough, much better than the huge whooping style I've been trading in recently. Uh oh, pre-plastic surgery Demi Moore is threatening suicide. I'm outta here.
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